Justin's Bride (16 page)

Megan bit her lower lip. It had been a silly thing to say. She'd known that as soon as the words had slipped out. No doubt, news of the words she and the butcher's wife had exchanged were already spread all over town. Part of the reason she'd brought Bonnie back to the house had been to work on the dress, but the other had been to avoid her sister. It had rained yesterday, turning the path between town and the Bartlett house into a muddy trail. Colleen would never risk her shoes over a visit, so Megan and Bonnie were safe today.

At least Colleen and Mrs. Greeley seemed to be in the minority. There were enough new settlers to tip the scale in Justin's favor. He was also getting support from the most surprising places. Megan had been shocked when she'd found out Mrs. Dobson had been the one who'd suggested the social. The older woman had always talked about Justin's being as handsome as sin, and sin making its own kind of trouble. Maybe the widow didn't think trouble from sin that handsome was a bad thing. Megan smiled at the thought.

When the dress was in pieces, she picked up the heavy paper she was using as a pattern. She pinned it to the cloth, then carefully cut around the edges. Bonnie sat on the floor and played.

“Can we make a dress for my doll?” she asked.

“I think so.”

“And Alice?” The kitten had awakened from her morning nap and had come to investigate their activities. She was still small enough to sit in a teacup, but she was growing. Her bright green eyes didn't miss anything, Megan thought as the kitten swatted at a falling bit of fabric.

“I think Alice likes her calico coat just fine.”

The cat meowed her agreement, then hopped into Bonnie's lap.

“What are you going to wear?” the girl asked.

“Oh, I have lots of dresses.”

“But you have to wear something special.”

“I'll find the right dress.”

Bonnie picked up Alice and cradled her in her arms. “Let's go pick one now.”

Megan set down the blue fabric. She could finish the dress later, while Bonnie was taking a nap, or even that evening. It wouldn't take long. “All right.” She took the little girl's hand and led her upstairs to her bedroom. There was a large armoire opposite the bed and another one beside the big window.

She opened the one opposite the bed. “I have a pretty pink dress,” she said, pulling out a floral print calico that had to be at least four years old. It was wearing a little at the shoulder seams and the fabric had a decided droop to it.

Bonnie climbed onto the bed and shook her head. Alice flopped down beside her and started to purr. “It's not pretty, Megan.”

“All right.” She reached into the armoire again and brought out a light blue gown. It had pleats across the front and a big lace collar. The back pulled up into a cascade of flounces. The style was nice, but the color was a little off for her. Even before Bonnie wrinkled her nose, she was already hanging it back up.

They went through three more dresses. There was a second pink dress of silk that Bonnie admitted might be all right. Then the girl pointed at the other armoire. “What's in there?”

Megan hesitated. She shouldn't really show her. It wasn't as if she could wear the dress. It was completely scandalous. But no one had ever seen it, and suddenly she desperately wanted to know what the little girl would think.

“This is very special,” Megan said as she approached the armoire. “But it's a secret. You can't tell anyone. Do you understand?”

Bonnie nodded so vigorously, the bed shook. Her eyes widened in anticipation.

Megan opened the armoire. One half was shelves where she kept most of the silk and lace lingerie that Justin had seen the other night. She flushed at the memory. She'd been rearranging her things while Bonnie slept that evening and he'd seen her room before she'd had a chance to put everything away. But she didn't reach for any of the fancy undergarments. Instead, she pulled out a cream-colored silk dress.

The neckline dipped scandalously low in front, and was edged in deep rose-colored rosettes. The tiny sleeves would just cover her shoulders and leave her arms completely bare. The tightly fitted bodice flared out at the hips before the luxurious fabric draped down to the underskirt. Rows and rows of gathered flounces had been edged in rose ribbon. The last foot of the skirt was pleated. She turned it slowly so Bonnie could see the back. A bustle of rosettes and ribbon cascaded to the ground.

It was a dress made for a princess. Bonnie stared openmouthed. “Oh, Megan, that's so pretty. It's the prettiest thing I've ever seen forever.”

“I know. It's a Worth gown.” She brushed a speck of lint from the shoulder seam. “Three years ago, I was in St. Louis buying for the store. This gown had been ordered for a lady who changed her mind about it. The gentleman I purchase my ready-made clothing from showed it to me, and I simply had to have it.” It had been wicked of her, she knew, but she didn't care. The gown had been too beautiful to resist. The previous year had been her best yet, so she'd told herself she deserved a reward.

“Wear that,” Bonnie said.

“No. I can't.” Megan put the gown back. Just thinking about what the townspeople would say—what Colleen would say—was enough to make her shudder. Like the lingerie, this was a guilty secret. She had more than anyone suspected.

“The earth dress is pretty. You should wear it. My dress is going to be pretty and I'm wearing mine.”

“It's a ‘Worth,'” Megan said, closing the armoire and sitting next to the girl. “He's a famous dress designer in Paris.”

“Worth,” Bonnie repeated. “Doesn't he want you to wear your dress?”

He might, Megan thought, but probably not in Kansas. She smiled. “I'm sure he does. But not to the social.”

Bonnie seemed to accept that. “You can wear your pink dress, then. We'll be pretty together.”

“Yes, we will.” Megan leaned over and hugged her close. Bonnie clung to her.

Deep in her chest she felt a sharp pain. She tried to ignore the cause, but she couldn't. She loved her job at the store. It made her happy and kept her from going slowly mad from being trapped in this big house. For the last few years she'd told herself the store was enough. That she was lucky to be able to work. Most women couldn't. Their children or society kept them at home. But as Bonnie snuggled closer, Megan realized she'd been fooling herself. Just as being home all the time wouldn't please her, the store by itself wasn't enough, either. She'd been lonely for a long time.

As she straightened, Megan wondered what she was supposed to do about that. She wanted the normal joys of womanhood. A family and husband. But how? And who? Since age sixteen, there had been only one man in her life. And in a year, that man would be leaving.

“I
don't want to be here,” Justin mumbled under his breath.

Bonnie, skipping along at his side, glanced up at him. “Megan says there's singing at church,” she said, as if that made it all right.

“I know.” The singing was the least of his problems but it sure didn't make it all right with him. He tugged on his collar and adjusted his string tie, then pulled at his black jacket. He didn't give a damn about how he looked. He wanted to be anywhere but fifty feet from the white clapboard church in front of him. The townspeople were starting to assemble. He'd hoped to get to church early and find a seat in the back so he and Bonnie wouldn't be noticed. However, more people were out than he'd thought. If having to go to church wasn't bad enough, afterward there was going to be a social.

The old-timers hadn't forgotten who he was and why he'd been run out of town. Most of them were offended by his investigation into Laurie Smith's death, despite the fact that he hadn't found out a damn thing. The new settlers didn't care who or what he was as long as he got the job done, but they would hear the talk today, if they hadn't already. He didn't care for himself, but Bonnie was another matter.

He glanced down at the girl. Alice, the maid, had come in early and done Bonnie's hair in ringlets. Her new blue dress with its big lace collar was the exact color of her eyes. She was beautiful, and almost a replica of her mother. If nothing else cast a pall over the social, the men who had visited Laurie were bound to be unnerved by Bonnie's likeness to her. It was going to be a long day.

As they approached the church, Justin noticed several clusters of people talking. One by one they grew silent and stared. Bonnie gripped his hand tighter. She clutched her doll to her chest and crowded him.

Mr. and Mrs. Greeley were closest to the path. Justin nodded.

“Morning, Sher—” Mr. Greeley stopped abruptly when his wife elbowed him in the ribs.

The sun was shining brightly in the morning sky. Birds swooped down from budding trees. The collection of fancy dresses and hats, men in suits and children giggling in their Sunday best should have made him feel welcome. It didn't. He wanted to turn on his heel and walk away. He couldn't. Because it was important to have Bonnie accepted by the town. Although he was starting to wonder if that was ever going to happen.

“Good morning, Sheriff.”

He turned toward the familiar voice. Mrs. Dobson walked in his direction from the side of the church. Her large, feather-covered hat bobbed with each step.

“Mrs. Dobson.” He tipped his hat.

The large-bosomed woman bent at the waist. “Bonnie, don't you look pretty.”

The girl dimpled. “Megan made this dress for me 'cause it matches my eyes.”

“It does indeed. You have very pretty eyes.” She straightened. “Justin Kincaid, I'm very unhappy with you.”

He stiffened, prepared to whisk Bonnie away if things got too ugly.

“You've been keeping this precious child all to yourself. You could have brought her to me. I would have taken her in.”

He stared at her. “You?”

“Yes, me. Close your mouth and stop looking so surprised. I know what people have been saying. I'm very angry you would think that of me, however. After what happened before.” She clamped her lips together and glanced significantly at the obviously listening people around them.

She was referring to her bedside vigil when his mother had been dying. He didn't know what to say. He'd never thought of taking Bonnie to Mrs. Dobson's house because the woman had always sided so firmly with the town. As a boy, she'd often scolded him for getting into trouble. He drew his eyebrows together. Maybe she wasn't as horrible as he'd thought then. Maybe she'd only been concerned about him.

“Justin?” Bonnie tugged on his coat sleeve. “Don't send me away.”

He smiled at her. “You're going to stay with me, honey. Don't you worry. Mrs. Dobson was just offering her hospitality.”

The widow nodded. “You're a sweet little girl and a bright spot to my day in the store.” She turned to Justin. “I'm teaching her numbers and some ciphering. She's quite intelligent. Now, are you going to stand there like a clod, or are you going to escort me into church?”

He glanced back at the Greeleys openly listening to the conversation, then down at the small woman. “You amaze me, ma'am.” He held out his arm. She slipped her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow. “Is that a new hat you're wearing? It's lovely.”

She tapped his hand. “Don't you try your sweet talk on me, young man. I'm too old for your wickedness.” She paused just inside the church, then pointed. “We'll sit there, next to Megan.” She started walking. “No, I'll go in first.” She slid into the pew and adjusted her voluminous dress. Bonnie went next and Justin sat on the aisle. He tried to see around Mrs. Dobson to greet Megan, but the widow's hat was too large. He settled for looking at the church.

Not that much had changed in the last seven years. The pews were still backless benches, the pulpit simple. He'd never spent much time in church, but occasionally his mother had made him go. He saw a mousy young woman sit down at an organ. She barely looked big enough to reach all the keys, but when her fingers began to move across the instrument, the music that swelled out through the church was stunningly beautiful.

“That's new,” he said to Mrs. Dobson.

She glanced up. “Oh, yes. Megan donated it three years ago. We're fortunate to have our own organ and a minister in residence here in Landing. The other neighboring towns have to make do with occasional visits. We get him three Sundays a month.”

“It's very fortunate,” he mumbled. Mrs. Dobson shot him a look, but he ignored her. He would bet his salary Colleen had blackmailed the organ out of her sister. He would pay that amount again to find out how.

Mrs. Greeley and her husband started up the center aisle. As they passed, Justin put his arm around Bonnie.

“Good morning, Anabell and Winston,” Mrs. Dobson said. “How are you?”

The couple paused. Justin saw the emotions flicker across Mrs. Greeley's middle-aged face. Finally, she turned toward their pew. “Good morning, yourself, Catherine. We're fine.”

“Good.” Mrs. Dobson smiled. “You've met Justin, of course, and this is Bonnie.”

Anabell Greeley gripped her reticule so tightly, Justin thought she might tear it in two. She inhaled sharply and the color fled her pinched face. Finally, she nodded. “Megan, Sheriff.” She gritted her teeth. “Bonnie.” Then she turned away and marched up the center aisle, leaving her husband to tip his hat and trail after her.

The widow kept at the people arriving, until the entire congregation had been introduced to the child. Bonnie smiled winningly, showed a select few her precious doll and snuggled close to him for protection when the sharp stares got to be too much. By the time the service started, Justin was too exhausted to do more than listen.

Gene Estes's choice of sermons got his attention, though, when about ten minutes into his preaching the minister started going on about the wages of sin. Justin could feel the stares of the townspeople. Those words were meant for him and little Bonnie. But their impact was lessened by Mrs. Dobson's unmistakable acceptance of the child. She'd smoothed the way.